Kestral Merci
by Penelle
Summary: In the summer before fith year the course of fate is changed when a girl named Kestral moves into number eight Privet Drive. She and Harry become friends, and she helps ease him of the guilt he feels over Cedrics death, but she has dark memories aswell.
1. Chapter 1

Rain splattered the window of number eight Privet drive; it had just been sold to a couple and their lovely niece. Andrew and Marty Merci had just move to Surrey from Clairton, Louisiana. Andrew had grown up in England but moved shortly after graduating to escape the pressures of his very old fashioned family, where he had met Marty and they had fallen desperately in love living happily together, though thoughts of children often popped into their heads. Marty's niece had been the answer to those wishes, she had come to them when she was eleven years old and they had been one, small but deliriously happy family. Their niece and Marty got on very well. He and their Kesi Bear where practically inseparable, they liked the same type of movies and the same type of books, the same sense of humor. Andrew almost always came home to find them on the couch tell the characters exactly what to do, especially if they were watching Rambo. It was a favorite pass time of there's and it seamed every viewing made it more hilarious, with more things to correct; though Kesi insisted that Stallone looked very good in his new flick, Expendables. Andrew would shake his head, grab his book and stretch out while they laughed themselves into fits. The move here had caused a lot of tension between them. Andrew had to come back, He wasn't sure how to explain it to Kesi, it had been hard enough to tell Marty and that had been whispered in his ear late in the night when just the two of them. Kesi had been angry, friends had been hard enough to come by, and she would have to leave them all, to start a new school that rarely had transfer students. She of course hadn't truly been upset till she learned that Marty would no longer be working from home so the summer would be spent in a foreign country where they didn't even have the decency to drive on the right side of the road, with not even her very best friend to hang around.

Now the sole occupant of number eight was staring out her bedroom window watching the rain, and watching the street, usually the rain made her giddy, curl up in a chair or your bed and stay in our jammies all day. Today however it was a warden keeping her imprisoned in this house with nothing to distract her. The boxes with her books in them hadn't made it across the Atlantic yet and the television shows where slightly off, the ones that weren't where in the middle of the summer season and made no sense, and the music hadn't been anything like she was used to. Turning from her window she started opening boxes, and putting things away. Across the street someone else was cursing the rain; he had been staring out his own window, watching the shadowy form of the new neighbor. He could see her passing back and fourth between the windows settling in.

Kes opened boxes finding that her packing skills where not so amazing. There were blue jeans in with silk pajamas and a dress she hadn't worn to the winter formal; in another box she found old school books in with face cream and her favorite perfume. She went through four other boxes before she found what she had been looking for. Her i-home, it found a place of honor on the built in bookshelves where its sound could resound through the room. Deciding that mournful music she preferred on rainy days would just make her mood more gloomy she settled on the classics. Motley Crue, Queen, Beatles, Rolling Stones. It wasn't long before the knob was turned up and the music pushing her into a dance all thoughts of organizing her room forgotten. The boy across the street smiled when he saw her dancing, it seamed so pleasant and she, she most be one of the happiest people, to dance with such abandon.

Harry Potter was desperate, Dudley was playing a game on his computer and the sounds of people screaming, even if it was computer generated, where racking on his conscious. He knew he supposed in his head that Cedric's death wasn't his fault, but he couldn't figure out how to tell the rest of him that felt guilt, that dreamed about every night, and could hardly close his eyes with out that green light flashing. He wanted to run, pound out these feelings. He could work himself hard enough then he could sleep, in blessed quiet. He slipped out the door his wand tucked in the back of his pants. Stepping over the squeaking chair and past the kitchen door when his Aunt was taking out a pie. The wind brushed through his hair, and it smelled clean. He started out with jog but soon his feat slapped against the side walk in a steady rhythm. There was no destination, just the rush of adrenaline, and that lovely clean smell. It wasn't long before he found himself running through the park at the end of Little Winging, he went all the way through the park and father before he turned around to run back. Once in the park a second time he stopped running and stretching out in the grass. He stared up at the clouds, relaxing in the warmth of the sun. Two fingers jabbed into his shoulder, and he turned pointing his wand into the face of a wide eyed girl. "Take it easy darlin; I was just makin sure ya weren't passed out, or somethin. Why don't you point your wand down?" She had eased back. Guilt immediately flooded him.

"Sorry, um I. Did you say wand?" He looked her up and down. She had coppery hair and pale skin, wearing a blue dress that pooled around her knees where she had knelt down next to him. Her head bobbed in the affirmative.

"If you don't tell, I won't." Her smile was broad lighting up her face. "I'm Kestral, by the way, Kestral Merci." The hand she held out was small and soft, and it took a moment for him to let it go.

"Harry Potter." Finally smiling himself "You're a Yankee?" He asked wondering at the slightly slurred drawn out speech.

"No, I am most certainly not. I am a genuine, certified, southern belle, with out an ounce of Yankee blood in me thank you very much, and don't you forget it Mr. Potter." She had tossed her head to the side laughing. Harry nodded, not sure what the difference was, she had basically just said she was from the US. Perhaps if he was someone else he'd have thought she was off but she was smiling at him, and she seamed to know what a wand was so that meant she must know about the magical world, and that meant he could talk to her. "You live around her then Harry?"

"Yeah, number four Privet drive." He tried not to hiss it out. He really wanted to be at head quarters with everyone else. He looked back at her and the way he tossed her head. She was the girl from number eight, the girl he had watched all day yesterday. "You live in number eight don't you?"

"Mhmm, we just got her, my uncles and me. It's a lot different from Louisiana, but Andrew's from here and he seams to think it's important for him to come back. I don't mean to be a busy body, and if I'm pryin just tell me to shut up, but you wouldn't happen to go to Hogwarts would you? See I'm supposed to go there this fall and it sounds way different from my school in America, and Uncle Andrew says it should be a surprise, but I really hate surprises. Do you think you could tell me about it?" Harry had fallowed everything she said, years of Hermione's rants on the impotents of potions ingredients or the specific movement of the wand for a spell, had trained him for that.

"Sure," Perhaps it would have been prudent to run away, she could be a Death Eater but if she was she would have tried something by now, and besides it would distract him. "It's actually really cool, most of the time. There's four houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Huffelpuff, and Slytherin. I'm in Gryffindor, you'll get sorted into one when you get there." It wasn't hard to get lost in telling her about Hogwarts, it was after all his home, and she seamed to be as caught up in listening as he was in telling. The sun traveled unnoticed across the sky, and it wasn't until Harry's stomach rumbled that they realized either of them noticed anything. "I should be going," he said. He didn't really want, this was the most relaxed he'd been weeks, but she would be hungry to.

"Oh, I suppose your families got lunch. Well we could get together tomorrow maybe?" She had stood up, brushing the back of her skirt, from stray grass that clung to her.

"Definitely," It wasn't like him to be so open with a stranger. "Tenish good for you." Kestral nodded. They walked back down the street together Harry pointing to some houses on the street, mostly the ones that sheltered a member of Dudley's gang. "Tomorrow Kestral." Harry waved and they both disappeared in their houses. Kestral to make a sandwich, Harry to climb up to his room and wait for supper, thinking about her.

Harry watched for her to pass in front of the windows in her house. She ran up and down the stairs most of the day carrying boxes, and occasionally he glimpsed her dancing. Kestral never noticed that she was being watched; instead she was happy to have made a sort of friend. She let the music set the pace and by the time her uncles arrived home her room was mostly unpacked. Happily she told them all about the boy next door Harry who, was a wizard by the way, and went to Hogwarts, and had kindly told her all about it, and thank you very much there wasn't a giant shark tank you had to swim through, just a hat. Her arm swung out flicking several pieces of lettuce off the tongs, emphasizing her disapprobation for her Uncle Andrew. They sat around the table, a tradition never missed if they could help it. Her Uncles smiling quietly at her while she rambled on about all the things Harry had told her and that they where going to meet tomorrow and maybe they could meet him on Friday.

At exactly ten the next mourning both teenagers where out of their houses, Kestral smiling broadly and waving to Harry. She was in green today, and this dress also floated around her. "Mourning Kestral."

"Mourning Harry, so do we want to go to the park again, or maybe we could walk down to Blake Square, there's supposed to be a bookstore there."

"Blake square sounds fine to me." It was quiet at first, neither knowing how to start the conversation again. It was however Harry's turn to be brave, "So uh what do your Uncles do?"

"Uncle Andrew, he works at O'Neil's Cauldron's, he manages international shipping, he asked for a transfer so we could move here. Uncle Marty used to work as a free lance writer, but he just took a position at a magazine called the Quibbler. It's a bit wacky but so is Uncle Marty. I always thought Uncle Andrew should open his own potion supply store, he loves them; then I could help out behind the counter or stock the shelves or something, and Uncle Marty could have an office upstairs." She did a little shrug of her shoulders and toss of her head. "I of course would take over, maybe, I might want to be a healer, I tend to change my mind a lot. What do you want to do?" She was sort of skipping beside him.

"I don't know, I've thought about being an Auror, but I haven't ruled out anything. I have a friend that wants to change elf enslavement laws; maybe I'll help out with that." He hadn't actually thought about it, but he certainly had enough money to do it. She nodded tilting her head.

"We have laws protecting their rights in America, they still serve families, but the have to have their own place to live and they can leave if their treatment is unfair. I think it's really great that the two of you want to change the law here. Maybe I could help, if it's not too intrusive?" She was walking now, taking in the stores they passed.

"I think Hermione would love to have you help, I bet the two of you would get along really well." He was smiling at her; she seamed to exude happiness from her being.

"Do you think so; I don't usually make friends very well." Still smiling looking at the yarn in a store window.

"Neither do I, but we did well enough together didn't we?" The both smiled at that, and she asked if he could forgive her if they went into the knitting store. Harry of course didn't mind, it was nice to watch someone delight in the smallest things. After that they went to the bookstore where Harry was quizzed on his favorite authors, when it was discovered that he had none and rarely read anything that didn't pertain to school work, Kestral insisted that he read some of her favorites, everyone should at the very least try reading. She was very happy to see him nod accepting the book she put in his hands. They ate hotdog on the bench in the middle of the square, and walked slowly back to their homes, Harry stashed the books under his floor board, and went for a run. Kestral placed her new purchases on the shelves in her room, and started dinner for her and her Uncles happily reliving the day in her head.

Harry and Kestral spent almost every day together, happily discussing mundane ordinary things. Harry learned that he liked muggle fiction especially Steve Berry and James Rollins. Kestral quickly insisted that Harry eat lunch at her house, after all she was a southerner and Harry was much to skinny for liking. They would also do garden work together, she had a particular fondness for Begonias.

_Hello, any one who has happened across my story, I love reviews, they make my day, Like they make every ones day. Leave one, let me know what you think, how I could improve, but no flames cause thats just mean. _


	2. Chapter Two

_Hello I failed to put up a disclaimer, so I don't own anything that was written by J. K. R., I do however own Kestral, Marty and Andrew. Please applaud me for my great achievement. Thanks to TwilightEclps for the review. I'm definately planning for Harry to grow and change, a little love and consideration goes along way for a person. I hope you like this chapter too.  
- Penelle  
_

Chapter Two

Harry stretched and rolled over; he was currently laying in Kestral's back yard. She had made sandwiches and iced sweet tea that was so sugary you could chew it but was good all the same. "Come cherie this won't do. Its barely warm out and you're wilting." She finished her sentence with a clucking sound, and a shake of a finger at the daisy's that had drooped over. "You know in Louisiana it gets to be 109 degree's and my daisies don't melt there. I think there must be somethin wrong with these ones." Harry chuckled under his breath.

"No, _Cherie_, that's just the way our daisy's are over here, I'm afraid you'll just have to make do with these ones." Her eyes flicked over at him. You could read everything in her eyes, even if she was desperately trying to hide her feelings, they where right there dancing or boiling depending on the emotion. She left the daisies and stretched out beside him.

"The Uncles want to meet you." Her voice was quiet, eyes staring straight up to the sky. "Marty's says you have to come to dinner."

"Dinner sounds great." Harry never minded being invited over for meals, and 'The Uncles' were on the short list of people he actually wanted to meet. Kestral rambled on about them; they were her entire world it seamed. Like how Ron and Hermione had been his whole world for so long. She was smiling again.

"Would tonight be okay? We're having stroganoff and green beans, biscuits." She got so animated when she talked about food, and there was a never ending supply of freshly made treats. Brownies, tarts, berries covered in homemade vanilla syrup, and tomatoes covered in sugar, tomatoes sandwiches, with huge globes of mayonnaise, salt and pepper. Never ending amounts of leftovers that where greedily devoured the next day.

"Any time you want me to come and eat, I'll be here." They sniggered together, Kestral laughed, pulling Harry to his feet, spinning them about till they where both to dizzy to stand.

Kestral was chopping away at mushrooms, Harry watching from a counter. He had never found cooking very enjoyable because Petunia would breath down his neck, and how you could anyone enjoy laboring away with out getting to sample the end result. But Kes bounced about with the music jabbering at him, about Excavation the latest James Rollins she had pressed into his hands. She liked when they agreed, but even more when they didn't, as rapt in her attention as when he told her about Hogwarts, or Hogsmead.

"What delights await tonight, Cherrie?" The voice was light and held the same accent as Kestral.

"Stroganoff Uncle, Harry and I are in the kitchen."

"Yes, a proper southern lady, in her kitchen cookin, for her men. My how your darling Gramma must be turning in her grave." The man was tall with the dark brown hair, the same brown eyes as Kestral, amusement dancing in them and practically the same smile. "Hello, Harry, my Kesi bear can't seam to stop talking about you. It's nice to put ah face to the name." He dropped a kiss to Kestral's brow.

"I think Gramma would applaud my self preservation instincts, for you can't cook anything but raw vegetables, and Uncle Drew won't cook anything but potions." Her voice as light as his. "Would you put the biscuits on the table?" Taking in the amount of food he asked.

"Shall we starve do you think Harry?" It seamed that Marty and Kestral could barely speak with out teasing.

It wasn't long before the door opened again, admitting a very tall broad shouldered blonde man, with a dark coat and briefcase that was unceremoniously tossed beside the coat rack. He greeted Marty with a deep kiss, tilting him all the way back like they do in those romantic flicks Harry's Aunt Petunia used to watch. The man waved a hand in the direction where Kestral stood, which did not send her in the other direction; instead it brought her laughing into a hug. Her uncle spun her about kissing her forehead. "Now where is this Harry I've been hearing so much about?" His was an English accent, deep booming, but as happy and teasing as Kestral's or Marty's. Unlike Marty's cheerful handshake though, Andrew stopped dead as if he'd been confounded. "Merlin you look just like James." Harry stared back at the man. "Your eyes are all your mothers, I. I went to school with your parents. It's nice t meet you." He shook Harry's hand. Harry merely nodded his head. "

"It's nice to meet you to. Perhaps you could tell me of my parents." His voice was soft, with a pleading tone that caused everyone to look closer at him.

"I'd be happy to tell you anything you wanted, anytime you like." All this family seamed to have brilliant smiles. Harry found himself surrounded by them at the table, and Andrew told them all wonderful stories of James, and his fiends, but the one that meant the most to Harry was the story Andrew told about Lilly. "She was the kindest person, I had ever met, never bought into the house rivalries and all that rot, not that she wasn't proud to be a Gryffindor. I was a lowly Huffelpuff, shunned by my whole family, practically a disgrace, and to top that all off, I knew that I was gay. At the end of our sixth year, Dumbledore tried out a parents evening. At the time I was seeing very quietly a boy named Jerry Atten, the only people we told where Frank Longbottom, Jerry's best friend, Sarah Elliot, and Lilly. I think Frank told Alice but the others would never have told anyone. That night Jerry proudly introduced me to his parents, in the privacy of an old class room. When we got back though, Lilly was receiving three weeks and four days worth of detentions that was all that was left of the term. She had apparently for no reason Hexed Al Tavish into a bright pink bunny. Al had over heard Jerry and me with his parents and was heading right to my parents. Lilly was fiercely loyal to her friends. She always said it was her proudest moment in school." Andrew had a far away look on his face.

"Thank you Mr. Merci, I don't get to hear a lot of things about my mum except that I have her eyes." Harry stirred the stroganoff on his plate.

"Call me Andy, Harry; I'm too young to be a Mr. anything." He got a nod in response.

"Have you ever seen the Rambo movies, Harry?" Marty's eyes glinted.

"No, I'm not allowed to watch the tele." It stunned Marty, who had seen Harry's cousin in front of the tube every day this week.

"Well than your education is seriously lacking, come I shall educate you. Drew, Cherrie, do the dishes." Marty hauled Harry behind him into the living room, were he was sandwiched between Marty and Kestral, while they practically narrated the movie.

The next two weeks Harry became a constant member of the family, it almost seamed like he had always been there. He found as much amusement in Marty and Kestral as Andrew did, and Andrew would tell him as much as he could about the goings on at headquarters. This did not reduce his frustration with his friends that they wouldn't even try to tell him things. He said as much to Andrew one night while they where eating. "Maybe they want to write but this Dumbles person is checking their mail." Kestral scooped more dumplings onto her plate. "We should work out a code and have Andrew sneak it in to them, well maybe not all of them but the ones you trust, your godfather and Hermione." It had never occurred to anyone else that Dumbledore might be checking the letters. They found their new project; it didn't take long for them to have a code. Andrew produced one that he had used to right his boyfriend when he still lived at home.

"Harry's birthday is coming up." Kestral was perched on the counter in the Uncles bath room. There was a familiar wheedling tone in her voice.

"And you my hawk want to do something big extravagant, and expensive. Why not you adore Harry, I adore Harry, Andrew adores Harry and those relatives of his certainly don't take proper care of him. Do you think that he might like to move in with us? I always wanted a house full of children." That one comment was all Kes needed she was up and running with the idea. The bedroom next to hers was refurnished to suit what she imagined Harry would like, he had his own i-home with a brand new i-pod loaded with the songs he liked. Marty thought a new wardrobe was in order and they hung them all up in the closet. Pictures of them at the park where put on the wall, and a desk shoved under the window.

They where hanging curtains, when that wheedling tone crept back into her voice. "You know Harry's really close to his godfather."

"Yes, they seam to have bonded rather strongly. Sirius can never hear enough about him. What are you thinking Cherrie?" Marty studied her face for a moment. "I'm right behind ya darling." So the bedroom across the landing was converted as well, and a letter composed, and discreetly tucked into Sirius's palm at the next order meeting.

_Dear Mr. Snuffles,_

_Do not read this in company, for I have heard that your face is very expressive. I'm the third musketeer; you've met the other two. I understand that you find yourself in a very bad situation. I'm friends with the Bambi. Anyways it has come to my attention that his relatives, if you can call them that, aren't really providing a home for him, they kept him in a cupboard for ten years, and I thought that if it can be swung you and Bambi might like to stay with me and the musketeers. I understand the a for mentioned circumstances are hard to manage, but I can't tell you how the comforts of an actual home can make after going through something like what happened in June. The offer will always stand whenever it can be accepted and I await a reply, send it with one of my compatriots._

_Sincerely,_

_D'Artagnan_

Reading over the letter, Kestral laughed at her self she had never written something so ambiguous in her life. She hadn't wanted to use names or any defining terms in case it reached someone else's hands, but valid reasons didn't stop it from being ridicules. She gave it to Marty as he prepared to leave for the meeting.

Harry was stretched out on the couch reading the American laws on elfish rights. It had originally been written in the 1860's, however it had undergone several revisions in the 1970's, and it could really help them in their campaign. A copy had been sent to Hermione, who had sent back a very short missive of thanks, and I'll write again soon. The distraction had proved helpful to Harry and he had confided that the nightmares had gotten less graphic. Today however there where dark circles under his eyes, and he seamed to be re-reading the pages several times as if just couldn't get the information into his mind properly.

"Harry," her voice was cautious as she sat down on the coffee table. "Did you have another nightmare last night?" She watched him the shrug of his shoulders.

"Yeah, I don't understand why all this stuff happens to me? What did I ever do to deserve this? Why do I always make the wrong choice?" His eyes where still focused on the papers in front of him, but he wasn't seeing them.

"I know it's hard to believe when someone says they know how you feel. But I think I do. You see Harry I haven't been as open with you as you have with me." Her voice trembled, and Harry flipped his feat over the couch so he was facing her. "I come from two very old pureblood families. The Simones, Marty's side, and the Brakes on my fathers. My mother was the perfect pureblood daughter, she married the perfect pureblood son, and they settled into the perfect home, but they where not perfect. My father is a drunk. He likes his drink very much, and the more he drinks the more he begins to hate everything. I don't remember when it started but it wasn't so bad at first, a slap, a shove, but the older I got the worse it got, and my mother never said anything. I had a brother, Harry. Robin, he was the sweetest little thing. I don't think I'd ever loved anyone until he came along. I knew I had to protect him. I did okay for awhile, then one night when I was ten, he was four, I couldn't. I'd never seen my father that angry before. Roby was fussy that night, couldn't get him to be quite. I tried to block him when my father came toward us; he flicked me aside like I was nothing. He shook Robin so hard and I couldn't move I was too scared. My mother sat there the whole time and didn't do anything. When he finally stopped crying my father dropped him to the floor, and left I don't know where. I grabbed Roby and ran for the floo. I took him to the magical hospital but they couldn't do anything. He stopped breathing in my arms." Kestral voice had gone so calm, and she was looking at her hands. "I know it feels like it's your fault all these things, and for a really long time I thought Roby's death was my fault. I know you're not going to wake up and be guilt free, but it helps if you let people in, let the people who love you, love you, and the ones who don't you let them go and you don't let them have any space in your life, not in your thoughts, your memories, your heart. And eventually it won't be so hard to go to sleep, or to get up, or to just breathe." Harry stared at her with out any idea what to say or what to do.

"Kesi, I'm so glad you're my friend." He rapped is arms around her and she curled into his arms.

"Me to Harry," She sat up straight, "We need sweets, I have chocolate cake in the kitchen." Food fixed everything in Kestral's mind. She cut big pieces and they sat out on the back porch, Kes picking out pictures in the clouds.

_Dear D'Artagnan,_

_I think it's a bloody brilliant idea for _Bambi_ to stay with you and the Musketeers until my situation is resolved. Perhaps you should take back the offer for me to stay I'm the worst sort house guest and it would put you in the more danger, and Bambi cares so much for you. I hope to meet you when you come here with him and your musketeers. _

_Mr. Snuffles_

Sirius signed the letter with a smile. Harry's letters had never been so jubilant. He talked about Andrew who was helping him with his potion homework, and Marty who was teaching him how to bluff in card games, and Kestral who made the best sweets with out magic, who spun around in circles just because it was Monday, who had become good friends with Hermione despite the fact that her letters sounded like someone talking to a dim-witted child. He was curious how this relationship would go, since that night they'd freed him from the tower, he'd thought that Harry and Hermione would end up together, especially after last year with Harry and Ron's fight. He tucked the letter in his robe pocket, ready to be slipped into Andrew or Marty's hand. Either way it didn't matter, just as long as Harry was happy.

"Get up you." The thwack of a hand against a door, jerked Harry out of sleep. "It's Dudley's birthday and you need to make breakfast." The last part was such a high screech that Harry checked the window to make sure it hadn't cracked. It hadn't, and he could hear Dudley in his room make grumbles about getting up, so he shrugged out of bed, with a disappointed sigh. No, biscuits and gravy for him this mourning. In the living room he could see the large pile of presents, and wondered at some of them. Why would you give the porker a bike he didn't have the balance, dexterity, or will to ride, they should have just got him a second computer, or a new television set.

Once in the kitchen, his mood only grew more sour, because he began to think about Kestral, and Marty. The way he always seamed to be sticking his fingers into whatever she was cooking. The Kitchen at home was always so lively. "Home." It was barely a whisper, but it caused him enough distraction to forget to turn the bacon, and a large bubble of grease popped and splattered oil on his hand. He jabbed at it with a towel, wincing as the fibers hit the blisters. Usually a burn or a cut would mean, filching the cream or the band aid while no one else was looking, but not any more. Because once he'd finished breakfast he could go home, and there'd be burn potion, and someone to fuss over it.

Pain went sliding through the side of his head, "You burnt the toast boy, no breakfast." His Uncle had smacked him, now he was leering at him over his coffee, just waiting for an excuse to slap him again.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." He wouldn't get angry, he'd just let him go, let him go and make room for the people who loved, that's what Kesi said. They'd all be waiting for him when he'd finished the dishes. He turned away from the table with out a single glare. Just need to finish the dishes and then he could go.

"Don't you turn your back on me boy, you can go when I say you can." Harry stopped turning on his heel, to face his Uncle. He didn't take long for a new pain to irrupt in his side.


	3. Chapter Three

_Hello to those of you who are reading this. I'm glad to have fovorites and alerts, but I really, really love reviews. Thanks to TwilightEclps who reviewed last for the last chapter. Hopeful this chapter answers your question, and if it's not theres more in store latter.  
- Penelle_

Chapter Three

"Have you seen what their saying about Harry in that paper?" Kestral passed the offending thing to Andrew who had been doing the cross word in the muggle times. It was Saturday mourning and Kestral had provided her Uncles with Biscuits and Chip Beef, fried eggs, sausage, and a huge bowl of fruit. They would take their time, more often then not quietly reading, Harry had joined them the last two Saturday's and he happily devoured a book with the others, though he and Andrew had started talking 'Football' games that they now watched together. Andrew's face went through rapid changes. When he was done, he set the paper down and looked over at his niece; his jaw was drawn in a hard line. Marty picked up the paper that had been set near his plate. Scanning the page quickly, curios as to what had so up set his family. When he looked up he knew that there would be a major plotting cession.

"What do you think?" He asked knowing that one of them would have some idea.

"We counter attack; anyone can play the propaganda game." Andrew said. "We'll have to be careful we don't want to draw to much attention to us or the order, but before we do anything we need to talk to Harry. He has a right to have a say in this, and I doubt he even knows this is happening." What had started out being a bright and cheerful mourning had taken a dark turn? "And I want you to stay out of this Kes, at least for now. Voldermorte is very dangerous. I'll tell you what I know but I don't want you diving in head first like you do everything else." She nodded, her usual smile gone. She collected all the dishes watching out the window for Harry. He had promised to come over; perhaps those people had made him do chores. He would most defiantly be over for lunch.

To occupy her self, went out to the garden, she wanted to put in a new set of begonias, and the daisies needed to be watered they got so wilty. She let the mindless ness of planting and weeding, surprised when Harry didn't show up for lunch. She sat in her window watching number four but she didn't see any movement in his window, he must be out in the back yard. When the sky began to go dark, Marty joined her in the window. And when dinner came they sat on the front porch watching for Harry. "I don't understand why he hasn't come over yet, do you think they forbade him?" She leaned into Marty's arms; Andrew was sitting on the other side of them, resting on the other side of the rail. Neither answered her. The sky went from gray to blue to black, and no light came on in Harry's room no movement of some one going to bed, and the Merci's knew something had happened and it probably a really bad something.

"Andrew," Marty disentangled himself from Kestral. "I think we have to go over there, I don't trust those muggles farther than I can could through one of them." Andrew needed no encouragement; with instructions for Kestral to stay behind they marched across the street. It took several moments of banging to get Petunia to answer the door.

"Can I help you?" Her voice full of disgust, eyes taking in the two men, whose relationship was as disgusting and unnatural as the magic in her nephew. "It's nearly ten o'clock."

"We would like to see Harry." Andrew said his voice cold and imposing. "He was supposed to come by today, and none of us have seen hide or hair of him. You're going to let us see him." He took a step forward, and Petunia quickly stepped aside for them. This man was someone you did not mess with, she had enough intelligence to know that.

Andrew took the stairs two at a time, but when he saw the locks on Harry's door he stopped. "Marty get a camera, we're going to need it."

Harry lay in his cupboard legs scrunched up about him on his cramped little cot. For years when he was younger he had dreamed about someone coming to rescue him. When Hagrid had come all those years ago, he had thought his miracle had finally happened, but that wasn't true. He still got sent back, no one believing how bad it really was. It seamed each year it got worse. His Uncle had never out in out beat him before. There had been slaps, whacks, a shove here, a knock about the head, but today was the breaking point. He tried to uncoil one of his cramped legs but there was no room and the burning pain that jolted through his side stopped him. He was sure they where broken, at the very least cracked. He had been sure that the Merci's believed him, and he had promised to be over by breakfast, why hadn't they come for him. Kes was so fierce, protecting those she loved. She had said that she loved him, and even if she didn't come for him, he knew he loved her. He hadn't noticed at first but there was a warm fuzzy connection between them, his magic. Funny he had never felt anything like it before. He listened to the front door open he could hear voices but the words were too muffled for him to understand. Squeezing his eyes just willing himself to go to sleep that would be best to sleep through the whole thing. Stomps on the stairs sprayed dust all over him, so he squeezed his eyes tighter together, but the angry shouts, from the strange voices at the door and his uncle made him wonder. Wincing he hitched himself up trying to see through the cracks in the cupboard door. Petunia's voice joined the others in a high pitched squeal that could rival a mandrake, and wouldn't she just love the comparison. There was more stomping up and down the stairs with more dust sprinkled down, tickling his eyes, and making him sneeze.

Kestral watched lights turn on in number 4, Uncle Marty had run back over, and picked up a camera. She twisted her hands, shifting her weight from foot to foot, she had agreed to stay but how could she. The breeze pulled through her hair, sending it dancing out behind her as she dashed across the street. Better to ask forgiveness then permission, right?

Andrew was at the top of the stairs starring down Vernon Durlsy whilst Petunia stood squawking behind him, giving a very good impression of an enraged magpie. She could not see Marty, or Dudley, or Harry. Where was he if something had happened they would have just brought him back? She took her place in the hall, watching. The distinct sound of sneezing came from the cupboard she was standing next to. Her hand flew to the look thinking that it was odd to put a lock on a cupboard.

Harry heard the lock click open, and Kes was standing over him. With a look in her eyes that he had never seen, it was cold and hard, and her hair started to fizz out around her. "Uncles." She called. Her voice calm, clear, no shake, no hitch. "He's down here in the closet, it looks really bad." She stepped aside when Marty came down the stairs; before he reached in to help Harry he clicked pictures of the cupboard, the lock and the cot and a few of Harry.

"Andrew I'm going to need your help, Harry we're going to take you home okay, and we're going to fix you up. Kes take this." She grasped the camera, and moved further out of the way. Marty scooped Harry up into his arms and started out toward the door.

"We're taking Harry out of your care. Don't leave town because this is far from over. I'll be by in the mourning to discuss this further, and I suggest you be here. You don't want me any angrier than I am now." He put a hand on Kestrals back. "Don't try to cover anything up." He started to guide her out of the house and stopped. "Kes, go up stairs and gather Harry's things, I don't trust them not to throw them out." She didn't hesitate to obey him, and calmly walked up the stairs, and began to gather His things together, prying up the floor boards to make sure none of his school things were left behind. The trunk made an ominous thud – thud – thud down the stairs. The Dursley's knew that things were going to be bad. The Merci's were clearly well of, and had photographed everything, even the swelling on Vernon's hands that clearly showed that he had been the one to inflict those injuries. The last two Merci's left shutting the door with a resounding thwack.

Dudley had listened to the whole thing from the living room. He was not as dumb as every one thought; he found that it had suited him well to consider so. He got better grades from his teacher because they thought he just couldn't do any better, and his parents bought him anything he wanted to make up for their _failure_. His hidden intelligence told him that his parents were in a lot of trouble, and he needed to figure out a way to make sure it didn't affect him. That meant his plan to slowly increase his grade levels in the next few years might have to change, and that would throw his plans for the rest of his future might have to change as well, but that could all be dealt with. He just had to make sure no sanctions came against him, and if he appeared to be to dumb to know what was going on then that would help. Yes he would have to do a lot of thinking. Perhaps if they questioned him to much he could imply that his father also was abusive to him. That would do nicely as long as Harry wasn't there. Every option would have to be evaluated before he made his finale decision.

Kestral fidgeted beside the table, Marty had spread Harry out on. He was running diagnostic test and she had been waiting, listing potions and spells in her head that would help. She would defer to Andrews knowledge of potions, and Marty would perform the spells, but somehow knowing them, and reciting them made her feel more in control. "It's not so bad as it looks nothing that can't be healed with what we have here." He said for Kestral. "I think we'll need a blood strengthening potion, and I'll cast the _Rectus_ spell as soon as the potion takes effect, it will need the bloods natural healing powers to work and we don't want to drain him further." The potion was produced and Gentle poured down Harry's throat. He moaned as he drifted back to consciousness.

He could feel hands holding him up and there was moisture on his lips. Someone was whispering to him, calling him Cherrie, but it wasn't Kes. He let the sound and the warmth spreading through him, consume his mind. It was nice, he felt safe. The pain had dulled now. He could wiggly his toes and sift his legs that had been so cramped. This nice feeling didn't last, his ribs began to throb, but he couldn't understand why. Hadn't Kes found him? He was certain Marty had scooped him up and carried him away. The voice was back now. "Won't hurt for long… better… bones… bruises too." After that he slipped back to sleep, with the voice dancing through his dreams, with bright swirls and dancing flowers.

Harry was tucked into his bed, in his room. Marty settled into the squishy wing back chair they had selected for him. Andrew was down stairs calling their solicitor; Harry would not be going back to the Dursley's. Kestral had curled up in Marty's lap, resting her head on his shoulder. "I should have gone over there sooner. He told me how horrible they were, and he said he would be over early so we could go over herbology homework." Her eyes started to glisten.

"Shh's my darling, my sweet little girl. You know this is not your fault. Put the blame on the people responsible, none of this belongs to you; send it on its way." He rocked her back and forth. Knowing it would be a while before she could let go of this guilt. How long had it taken before she quite punishing herself about Robin? The guilt of that lay on Templeton, and his own sister Martina, and if any one besides them could claim some it would be him.

"I know but I can't bare the thought that I failed him." She shook in his arm, and those tears that had been pooling, spilled down her cheeks to soak his shirt. He rubbed her back, and let her cry herself to sleep.

"Let me take her." Andrew leaned over the back of the chair, rubbing his hand down Marty's cheek. Effortlessly he scooped her up tucking her close to his chest. He carried her down the hall laying her out on the bed. He tugged off her sandals, took the pins out of her hair, and unclipped the necklace from her neck. He draped the sheet over her, kissing her brow softly, he wished her a peaceful sleep, and prayed it would be granted. He left the door cracked so the hall light would filter into the room, and she would be able to see if she woke. Marty was shutting the door to Harry's room, when he emerged.

"He's doing well; all his bones should be mended by mourning." He sighed when Andrew rapped his arms about him. "I can't believe no one ever knew that that was happening. Those wards can't possibly be worth growing up that way." Andrew's hands were rubbing up and down Marty's back.

"No, I never thought I'd have to see another child in that position, and I never want to again." Andrew accepted Marty's kiss.

"Neither did I, Harry's just going to have to stay here with us. It feels like he's been here forever anyway." Andrews head bobbed as they moved down the stairs to their room exchanging kisses and caresses as they moved along, taking comfort in each other.

Sirius was hiding up in Buckbeak's room, tossing him ferrets and patting his head. He wondered how Harry was doing, they hadn't had an order meeting for almost four days so there had been no letter to read telling him what was going on. There had to be a better way to stay in touch with him. The creaking door told him he was no longer alone, the bushy hair told him it was Hermione. They had been spending more and more time together reading Harry's letters, or Kestrals. The kids had all agreed that something had to be done with rights, and drafts of legislation, and educational articles were sent back and forth. He had joined in because it brought him closer to Harry, but he soon found that he actually did care. He was curious what had drawn Hermione here; there was no letter, no article, just an old man and a Hipogriph. "Hello Buckbeak," she held out a hand. "High Sirius." She slid down the wall to sit next to him.

"Hey." He offered a smile, and a raised eyebrow.

"I'm tired of Ron. I think he actually likes that the papers are land blasting Harry. He's still jealous even though he apologized last year. I think he just wanted to be Harry's friend because Harry was famous." She sighed. "It's not that I think Ron, really wants to hurt Harry, I just think that his ego stops him from seeing reality." Her fingers slid through Buckbeak's feathers.

"You and Harry are really close." Sirius watched her wondering what he was looking for.

"Yeah, he was the first friend I ever had. I've started to think of him as my little brother, you don't have to worry about me breaking his heart like that Skeeter woman said. Besides I think he's set his eyes on Kes." Her face lit up with a smile that Sirius shared. "I wish we didn't have to wait for Marty, or Andrew to come to any offer meeting to pass letter like, naught school children." Sirius laughed, at her analogy, but it triggered his memory.

"Maybe we don't." He headed out the door. She didn't fallow he would tell her about later. Sirius was like that, always forgetting that people could know what he was thinking.

The bed he woke up in was incredibly comfortable, the sheets soft, and smelled like they'd just come out of the dryer. Shifting tentatively to the side he was surprised when the blinding pain did not return. Reaching out a hand to feel around for the table that had to be there holding his glasses. The room Harry was in was spacious, the walls had lots, bookshelves along a whole wall, the windows were covered in forest green curtains, the sheets that smelled so good, were blue and so were the blanket folded at the bottom. He wasn't sure where he was but he knew it was muggle. He smelled something, cooking and his stomach gave a grumble, swinging his feet over the side of the bed her moved out the door. With the door open he recognized the house as number eight, and the smell as whatever Kes was cooking for breakfast. He creped own the hall, expecting to see Kes prancing about the kitchen, Marty reaching around her to see if it was safe to eat, and Andrew leaning back in his chair holding up his paper and taunting them from the safety of the dining room. That was not what he found, Kestral was sitting at the table picking at the bowl of fruit she had, Andrew and Marty where not even there. He could see her eyes were red and rapped in a big fluffy bathrobe even though it was hot out side.

"Hey," his throat was dry and it came out in a croak. She jumped knocking the chair back wards. It was a flash of red as she through her arms around him. When he winced she pulled backwards, eyes tearing up again.

"Oh, I'm sorry I was just so worried." He just smiled and rapped his arm around her, pulling her close. She smelled like flowers, he couldn't put a finger on which one but it was defiantly a flower. He felt the fuzzy, warm, tug of his magic toward her, but he pushed the thought out, until he could figure out what it meant. "I have to go tell the uncles that you're up. They've been really busy." She went down the hall, where he heard her rap on the door. Their voices were muffled but there was a third male. "They want to talk with you." She said coming back up the hall. "I'll be right back." He walked down the hall, to the study.

The room was dim, dark wood furniture, leather chairs, the curtains where white lace. Andrew stood by the window staring out the window, Marty was sitting on the sofa shoved up against the wall, and the third man he had heard was sitting at the desk papers spread out in front of him. "Come sit down Harry." Marty patted the cushion next to him. "We want to talk to you Cherrie." His feet felt heavy moving to the couch. They weren't going to send him back to the Dursley's?

"Now Harry we know that, you really want to go live with … Snuffles … but would you consider coming to live with us, and being part of our family until that can happen?" Marty rested his hand on Harry's shoulder. Family was the only word he could focus on. "Snuffles, is welcome to come her as soon as well as soon as things get cleared up." His tone was low and soothing and his hand gently rub Harry's back.

"I can stay?" Harry tried not to let the hope come to his heart the last time, Sirius had had to flee and it had knocked him. "You guys really want me?"

"Of course we love you." Marty tenderly rapped him in a hug, careful not to jostle his bruises. Andrew put his hand on Harry's back, kneeling down to hug them both.

"I want to stay. I really want to stay." His voice quaked, and he trembled.

"This is Mr. Gibson, he's drawn up papers for the Dursley's to sign so in the Muggle world we'll be your guardians, the magical world will be a little more difficult, but we should be able to push it through before your birthday." Andrew was talking now. "You'll have to come with us to the clerk; they'll want to be sure we didn't fabricate pictures." He nodded to the prints on the table. "If you have no objections we're going to press charges against them."

Harry was stunned. He had never thought he would be rescued, or that the Dursley's would be punished for all the things they had done to him over the years. Even when Sirius had asked him to come and live with him, there hadn't been enough time for it to really sink in. Now he was sitting in the back of the Merci's car with Kestral and Mr. Gibson on the way down to the precinct to press charges on his miserable relatives.

The Detective had never had a case like this before. The two Mr. Merci's had built a solid case, their solicitor was one of the best in the country, and they had enough evidence that it was basically closed before it had even been opened. "It will be a few days before we can official name you Harry's guardians, and with a visit by one of our social service workers, we'll be able to let Harry stay with you. I must say though that helping an abused child is very difficult, and it might put a strain on your daughter." The detective signed his name to one of the forms that they had filled out.

"We understand the difficulties, and we're prepared to help Harry any way we can. Kestral and Harry have become very good friends, and Kesi would do anything for some she cares for." Andrew gave the detective a tired smile.

"Well I've called in a favor and the DCF worker should be able to come by this afternoon to check out the house." He made scans of the pictures for the Merci's to take home and walked them back out to where Harry and Kestral were waiting. She rested her head on his shoulder, his arm draped over her. Harry's eyes closed partially.

"We're done, it's nearly lunch and we have the DCF agent coming at four." Andrew rapped his arm around Harry the other around Kestral. His kids Harry was another blessing, brought into this family by pain and loss, that was their common bond, not blood or DNA, but that they where survivors, a family of survivors.

Kestral practically flew about the kitchen in her blitheful dance. She made a frittata and a traditional Greek salad with lemon dressing. There was also a pitcher of tea. Harry set the table, and Marty reached into the salad bowl plucking out bits of tomato and cucumber. Harry sat across from Kestral at the table. It was now his seat, in his home, with his family.

"Harry we had planned to show you this on your birthday, but it's yours now." Andrew held his hands in front of Harry's eyes, and Kestral and Marty held each of Harry's hand to make sure he didn't trip. The door to Harry's room was thrown open, and Andrew dropped his hands from Harry's eyes. It was the room he had slept in last night, but now he looked at it proper. There was his trunk at the end of the bed, and some of his new books that he had left here so they wouldn't be taken away, a desk was under one of the windows with a lamp, and a chair was stuck in the corner. It looked around in pure amazement, this was his room. He launched himself into Andrews's arms.

"It's the best ever."

Marty put glamour on the room so the DCF agent would be suspicious as to why they already had a room and all magical articles where warded with an anti-muggle charm so there would be no exposure. She found the two Mr. Merci's to be very charming and loving. If only there where more couples like them, successful, caring, and willing to take in abused kids. Oh they hadn't said their little Kestral was abused but he could tell an abused kid when she saw one. Kestral had been healing for a long time, but the signs where still there. Yes, Harry would be very well cared for here, and more important happy here. She'd fill out the paper work as soon as she was back at the office, now the only thing she had to worry about was helping them get those nasty Dursley's.

Dudley Dursley was having a major brainstorming cession. A social worker had come at seven this mourning, Monday, so her intention was to make sure she had the whole family at once. The Mrs. Thorensen was not alone. She came escorted with two cops who stood guard, while she interviewed his parents and then him. She had a sour look on her face, when she rang the bell, and the longer she was there the more angered and irritated her expression became. The two cops where more schooled but when she inspected the cupboard where his cousin had been kept then the room, with its seven locks and cat flap, their chaws became clenched, there fists fingering the flaps on there tazer cases, waiting for any excuse to use them. When she left Dudley had no misconception that his parents would not at the very least face heavy fines and more likely a prison sentence. What he needed to figure was how to play this, Aunt Marge would take him in, but he wasn't sure he wanted to move in with her. No, it would be better to go to Uncle Peter; he lived Australia, a whole new start for him. It would be better to be somewhere no one knew about this, or any of the things he had done. In Brisbane no one would know about Harry or the way he had treated him. Dudley had found that the older he got the less people wanted to fallow him in his campaign, and it had lost its appeal. Brisbane it would be, now with that figured out he'd just need to make sure he didn't get any punishments. That however would be more difficult to work out.

The occupants of number eight kept eyes on the Dursley's all day. They watched as the lovely Mrs. Thorensen, came with her two cops, spending almost two hours with the Dursley's. When she emerged she had a look of rage on her face, the two cops looked about the same. They puttered around in the house eating what Kestral made and sitting in the back garden, but coming in every thirty or so minettes, to peer out the window and see what else's was happening. It wasn't till about four that cars pulled up to the house. Vernon and Petunia where led out in handcuffs, and Dudley was carted off as well. Mrs. Thorensen said that the adult Dursley's would be charged with, neglect, abuse, and assault. Dudley would be going to his Uncle Peter in Brisbane, Australia. It was unlikely that Harry would be needed to testify, pictures, the fact that over fifty law enforcement agents had seen the house, and the cupboard and the room, and the medical records (that Marty and Andrew had created to back up their taking Harry that Saturday night), there was enough evidence that Mrs. Thorensen, and the lead detective were absolutely confident that they would win the case, and have the Dursley's behind bars in a few months.

_Dear Snuffles,_

_You'll never believe what happened! The D- have been arrested, and I'm now living with the Musketeers. D'Artagnan says I can be referred to Aramis, until we come up with our own names. It's better than Bambi, so in our letters I think I'd like to be called that, you have to admit that it's better than binging referred to as a helpless baby deer. Anyways I should be able to come and stay and I can't wait. D'Artagnan says she's coming as well. Athos and Porthos said their going to stay for the rest of the summer. When we get there I need to talk to you about something. It's not bad; I think it's really good actually. _

_Can't wait to see you,_

_Aramis_

_Dear Athena,_

_D'Artagnan says K.I.A. isn't very polite, but this one suits you as well. The D- have been arrested, and I'm staying with D'Artagnan. We're going to be there in a few weeks. I need to talk to you and Snuffles about something. Don't worry it's really good nothing to worry about at all. Oh and I'm now called Aramis._

_See you soon_

_Aramis_

_PS. D'Artagnan says there's something she needs to talk to you to about when we get there, nothing to worry about either she says._

__

_Again I love reviews so please, hit the little button and send me one._


	4. Chapter Four

_Greetings, I'm sorry this chapter took so long to be posted but the last two weeks have been very busy, Mid-terms. Thanks to Twilight-Eclips, Penseln, and sh77 for the reviews I hope you like this chapter too.  
- Penelle  
Oh and anyone else thats reading I really love reviews, please send me one._

_I'm sorry this chapter took a month to be published but there was a problem with my server and it would not let me upload, the next chapter should be up soon._

Chapter Four

Hermione smiled at the letter. Kestral was right she didn't like being called a K.I.A. Athena was much better, but it could still use some work. The three musketeers made sense for the Merci's they where always talking about each other. Hermione find her self a bit jealous, for she and her parents had been that close, but when she went off to Hogwarts they started drifting apart. It wasn't that there was a loss of love so much as a loss of understanding. She couldn't show them what she had learned, and her interest in muggle goings on had dwindled. So less time was spent at home, and the less time she spent at home the less she found herself dieing to tell them things that they didn't understand. She missed what had been between them, but she had built a sort of family here with Harry, and the Weasley's and the Order. Shifting her position, she tucked the letter in the bottom of her underwear box, every girl had one, no matter how bookish they where. It is impossible for a girl to resist having pretty underwear, and it was the best place to keep letters you didn't want, plus Hermione's had a notice me not spell so it was even less likely to be riffled through. Only two weeks till Harry's birthday, and then she would have her best friend and a soon to be best friend, another sigh, and she rolled over to pick up the transfiguration book.

It was raining, in Surrey, unlike the last time it had rain Harry and Kestral where not fighting off their loneliness in separate houses. Today, they where hold up in Harry's room, music was trickling through, Harry was sitting at the desk writing an essay, Kestral curled up in the chair reading. He was paying that much attention to the ease he was trying to figure out the pull of his magic to her. At first he thought it was just his magic recognizing hers, so he had looked for the tug when he was with Marty or Andrew. There had been a fuzzy happy feeling in his magic, but no tug, toward them. So now he wondered what was different about her magic, and did she felt a pull too. Kestral snorted, wondering what it was that he wanted, that he couldn't just ask. Turning a page she realized that she couldn't remember what had been on the last page. Deciding that it was a waist to keep trying she stretched out her legs, and stood up from the chair. She left the book in the chair and slipped down the stairs, cooking would be a nice rest for her mind, and there was a new chocolate mousse tart she wanted to try.

Harry felt it immediately when she left, and the slight clang of dishes in the kitchen roved to distracting. She didn't notice him for a while to caught up in her thoughts what ever they where. Cautiously he reached out his hand around her and dipped his fingers into the chocolate stuff she was whipping, he didn't know the name. Kestral didn't slap his hand away like she would Marty's, instead she laughed and stuck her own fingers in, and Harry found himself with chocolate smeared over his face. "Will you pull those tarts out of the oven?" She put all the mousse into a piping bag and squirted it into the tarts, which were then adorned with slices of Kiwi.

Marty was not surprised, to find Harry and Kestral spread out on the floor in Harry's room with a tray full of what looked like chocolate mousse tarts and a bottle of Raspberry, Pinto Noir. They had hung up some pictures of Harry's parents during there school days, and he could see that there were also ones from this summer, Harry and Andrew shouting at the television because their team lost, and one of the whole families when they had piled into the photo booth at Blake square, last Wednesday evening. He was pleased that to find the bottle still to thirds full. Summoning a tart to himself he left them alone too finish decorating Harry's room.

"Hello, my love." Andrew purred in Marty's ear. "The kids occupied somewhere else?"

"Mhmm, putting up pictures." He twisted around in Andrews arms. "I think they'll be busy for a bit." They sniggered and slipped back into their room.

Harry's birthday dawned and he didn't even remember. The three Merci's however did remember. Kestral made a special breakfast, and they sat around waiting for Harry to wake. At nine thirty, though Kestral became in patient, and when the uncles turned their back she bounced up the stairs, and launched herself on to his bed. The wind was knocked out of him, and his arms full of a laughing red head. "Mourning, Kes, what's going on?" She had shifted to lye on his left side, his right arm rapped about her and the left hand tucking, her locks behind her ear so he could see he face properly.

"Oh, nothing really, just my very best friends birthday, I'm not really sure why I was so exited come to think of it, perhaps I should go back to bed and read that new Sarah Kate Lynch novel." She plastered a confused pensive look to her face, but Harry looked at her eyes and laughed back at them.

"I forgot." He sighed. "I suppose you made me a cake?" Harry tried to hide the enthusiasm in his voice, but couldn't. Throwing off the blankets he tugged on Kestrals hand. "Well come on Kesi what are you doing lying about in bed on _my_ birthday." The raced down the stairs together like two year olds on Christmas.

It was Harry thought the almost very best birthday any one had ever had, if Hermione and Sirius were there, it would have had no equal. They did however send presents through Andrew, and where placed in the pile of presents the Merci's had bought. Marty, bought him six sweaters in shades of green and blue, and burgundy, several scarves, and a fedora, "Which is one of the most attractive accessories a man can have, Andrew was wearing one on our third date, when I fell madly in love with him." He also gave Harry a pocket watch that would work in the highest concentration of magic. Andrew gave him a new quill and ink set, and a leather bond journal that turned out to be his own potions journal that he had used in his with year.

"I think it might be of a slight help" He said it with a wink. Kestrals gift was a record player, with his favorite songs converted to records; she also gave him a camera, and a large supply of potion to make them move. From Hermione he received an advanced book on defensive spells, a feather light book bag, and an unbreakable ink well. Sirius's gift was puzzling at first, because it was just a mirror. They all assumed that there was something special about the mirror, just no idea what. Kestral insisted that they go ahead and eat cake since it wasn't really breakfast anymore, and the sausage gravy was cold.

"I'm sorry I slept so late Kesi." Harry stood behind her slumped forward on the counter. "Your breakfast was probably really good."

"Are you really apologizing for sleeping late on your own birthday?" He nodded. "Well don't, besides it's better to just eat cake anyways."

Most people would say it was a rather boring birthday, no friends, no trip, but Harry didn't think it could be any better. However at about three in the afternoon the mirror started talking, sounding very much like Sirius. "Hello there, Bambi, are you going to answer my call." The chair clattered to the floor, as Harry leaped over the couch to get the mirror. The sight that greeted Sirius, and Hermione, as they where sharing it, was a very surprised Harry glasses knocked to the side, chocolate cake smudge across his check as he had been just about to take a bite. "Happy Birthday Harry" they chorused. "I see we missed singing Happy Birthday, but we had to wait until every one else found something to do."

"Yes, because I'm certain that this mirror is prohibited." Hermione was smiling though. She hadn't seen Harry smile so much in a long time. "It's amazing charm work really. I've been trying to figure out what was that I could duplicate it."

"Your dad and I used to use them when we had separate detentions. Thought they'd come in handy since letters aren't really safe and you can't floo call from Hogwarts." There was a bang out in the hall and what sounded like a big Weasley fight. "We better go; we'll see you tomorrow night Bye Harry."

"Bye Harry." Then Hermione and Sirius disappeared.

"That has to be the coolest present ever." He said. No one could disagree, and while the conversation had been short, it made his first real birthday, the best birthday ever.

The next day was rather quiet in number eight, as they packed their belongings to take with them that evening. Harry found it amusing the amount of things that Kestral could not live with out. Not a single book remained on her shelf, every piece of clothing she owned including all of her summer clothes, she even packed her quilt and a pillow from the sofa in the living room. Which was returned by Andrew, and Marty cut the clothes in half, but the books remained, and so did the quilt. "It's why we bought her the three chambered trunk, and put that feather light charm on it." Andrew whispered to Harry. "Convinced she'll never see it again." Harry himself had to use two trunks to carry some of his new things, there where some pictures he just couldn't do with out. Andrew had kindly shrunk both of their trunks, so they could be put in pockets. They all sat in the living room Marty and Kestral had insisted they watch Rambo II one last time as they wouldn't get to see it until next summer. They were still quoting and repeating their favorite jokes about it when the order guard showed up.

They would be flying, Harry and Kestral in the middle surrounded by the order with Kingsley bringing up the rear, and Moody in the lead barking orders at them. Kestral had a nice broom a Tempest she tolled him when he eyed it. Apparently she had a fondness for flying as long as it was slow, and straight, and certainly not trying to avoid evil balls of doom. She started out calm, thinking that Moody was rather amusing, but when he took them plummeting toward the Thames; she quit laughing. They landed safely in a street, where they were handed a piece of paper and told to read it and memorize it. When the door opened they were ushered in, to be greeted by a screaming portrait, and a bunch of Weasley's who had missed their 'dark haired brother' and really wanted to see the mysterious girl of the Merci's. The Mr. Merci's where favorites of theirs because, they liked a good prank and could answer the many questions their father had about muggle appliances, win, win.

Kestral stood beside Harry taking in their surroundings, quite terrifying. It was dark, the walls far to close together, and was that elves heads on the wall, and what in Morgana's name was that shrieking. "Harry." Sirius brought him in to a hug, which for once Harry returned with out hesitation. Kes had hugged him so much this summer that, it seemed a perfectly normal thing to do. He pulled away and smiled at Kestral. "I'll talk to you two after the meeting." He nodded and the adults went into the kitchen.

Harry put an arm casually across Kestrals shoulders. "Everybody, this is Kestral. Kesi, that's Fred and George," Gesturing at the two, with out indicating which was which. "Ron and Ginny, and Hermione." He hadn't really needed to tell her who Hermione was they had been writing all summer and he had showed her pictures. There where grins and the twins shook her hands at the same time. Ginny and Hermione gave her hugs and Ron smiled dumbly at her.

"We can get introduced latter, but the meetings about to start so we need to get up stairs." Hermione pulled on Ginny, and George. "You're bunking with Ginny and I." Harry and Kestral lugged the trunks up to their new rooms, with the help of the twins. In the girls room there were three beds stacked on top of each other, the other girls trunks where lined up against the other wall.

"Your on top, if that's okay." Said Ginny. "Harry and Ron are across the hall."

"Are you coming?" It was Fred sticking his head in their door.

"We listen to the order meetings." Hermione whispered in to Kestral's ear. They walked down the steps together where everyone else was circled around a long string with an ear on each end. Harry was sitting with Ron, who had a peculiar look on his face. Kestral was wedge between Hermione and Ginny.

Kestral drummed her fingers against the floor, wondering if there was some weird silence ritual before the meeting started.

"They must have put up a silencing charm." George pulled up the Extendable Ear's string. They sat in silence occasionally shifting, waiting for the doors to open. Twenty minutes later a red faced Mrs. Weasley came to the door.

"Harry, Kestral please come down here."

"What's going on Harry?" Ron fallowed the two of them down the stairs. Everyone else leaned over the railing watching, Except Hermione. Dumbledore probably got the notification that custody had been given to the Mr. Merci's. Though what the problem was she couldn't figure out.

Kestral reached out for Harry's hand, Hermione had said that it was expressly forbidden for anyone under age to know anything about what was going on in that kitchen during order meetings. It felt an awful lot like going to the principal's office; she just couldn't figure what they had done. Harry squeezed her fingers. They entered the kitchen and it look like every person in the order was glaring at Dumbledore who looked very tired.

"Harry my boy, please sit down." He gestured to the bench on the other side of the table. The two sat down next to each other. "I understand that you like the Merci's Harry, and that you've all grown very attached to each other. But I'm afraid you have to return to the Dursley's for the rest of the summer, and custody will have to be transferred back. It is necessary to keep you protected." Kestral felt Harry deflate next to her. She saw her Uncles give her their worried looks, and she saw a man behind Dumbledore, sneer at Harry.

"Protected." The word hissed out between her teeth. "Protected." She could feel her anger grow. "You have a twisted sense of the word. I'm curious, what you call being threatened?" What made him omnipotent? She clamped her mouth shut, and squeezed Harry's hand.

"I'm not going back to the Dursley's professor, they never loved me. I'm staying with the Merci's, they care about me. Besides, both the Dursley's are in prison waiting their trials." He didn't look the Headmaster in the eye, and beneath the table his hand had gone cold. "I don't have to be treated that way…" His voice cracked. He looked to Andrew and Marty, and Sirius; He needed them to tell him he was right. Marty smiled, brushed a tear away from his cheek, Andrew nodded at him with a smile, his hand rubbed Marty's back. Sirius was glaring at the headmaster his hand fingering the wand tucked in his pocket. "I deserve to be loved, just like everyone else." His eyes went back down to the table studying the burns and scrapes.

"Just like your father, asked to lift a finger and suddenly you aren't _treated_ right." The man behind Dumbledore sneered. "You like him will never learn to listen to those who know better than you. Get your trunk Potter I'm taking you back tonight." There was a collective in tacking of breath, as most of the order prepared to fight.

"Did you even look at the evidence before you made up your mind?" Kestral looked directly at the Headmaster. "Or do you think no-one besides you has the capacity to know what is right. You two wouldn't know right if it knocked you up side your heads."

Her words where punctuated by the slap of a file on the table. Dumbledore opened it gazing at the pictures in front of him slowly turning them over to see the next one. His eyes growing more tired as he saw each new horror. When he saw the one of Harry lying bloody in the cupboard, knees scrunched up on a rickety cot. He folded the files cover back over, shoulders sagging down. "Harry, will stay in the care of the Merci's, I think it would be best for you to take headquarters as your permanent residence, the wards are much stronger here." Sighing heavily, he said "I'm sorry Harry."

Marty came around the table rapping his arms around Harry and Kestral. "Come on little

dears." He knew Kestral could still blow up, best to get her out. They didn't put up a fight. Kestral paused to fix one last hard glance at Dumbledore and the man behind him. The Weasley's and Hermione were still sitting on the stairs waiting. Harry looked at Kestral, that cold look that he had seen the night they rescued him from the Dursley's, was in her eyes. Marty sat them down on Harry's bed. "Everything turned out, Kesi, see." Marty brushed hair away from her face. His poor baby's. "I'll get you some tea. Huh" He patted their knees. Hermione had fallowed them in, and Squished onto the bed with them.

"What happened?" She brushed a hand through Harry's hair, similar to what Marty had done to Kestral. She could guess but she wanted them to tell her. Ron, Ginny and the twins sat on Ron's bed watching, listening.

"Dumbledore wanted to send me back to the Dursley's." Harry's face turned up into a grin and he snorted out. "Kesi looked ready to do battle." He snorted "You should have seen Snape's face when Dumbledore said I was staying." He started to chuckle, which faded into a sigh. "I wish they'd tell me what's going on." He draped on arm around the two girls he was sandwiched between, giving them a little squeeze.

Ron had been quite happy with being at Headquarters all summer, even though he had had to de-doxy. He had got a little information, and Harry was supposed to be spending the summer, weeding the garden with those muggles. Instead Harry got to move in with Kestral who had to be one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, slender, but with curvy breast and bottom, and big smiling brown eyes. That of course wasn't too bad; he was going to marry Hermione. Then Harry and Kestral had got to go into the meeting, and Harry hadn't even asked if he and Hermione could come, they where his best friends. He hadn't been able to hear anything. Then they had come with Marty's arms rapped around them, and now he was sitting between both girls with his arms draped over them. Why did he get everything, with out ever having to work, or try even? Hermione always chose Harry over him, like last year, and now Kestral was all over him too. It just wasn't fair. He tried to keep the frown off his face, Hermione would squawk about that too.

Marty came up the stairs, with a big tray of cups, a very large tea pot, and a plate full of chocolate muffins, there was also a bowl full of honey. "Food will fix everything." He handed out cups and plates. Quietly the tea was sipped and muffins eaten, Marty sent them all to bed when they'd finished.

Harry woke the next mourning to a load bang, fallowed by a screeching noise. Fumbling on the bedside table he heard his glasses fall to the ground. He ran his hand underneath the bed to find them. Ron was still snoring through, the racket. He could see Fred and George down the hall with Kestral. He could tell it wasn't Ginny because her hair was a deeper, more coppery red. They seamed to be pulling on some curtains. An arm draped around him. "It's Mrs. Black's portrait. She doesn't like us being here." Hermione had pulled her wild curls back away from her face, and a zipped a sweater around her shoulders. "I think Fred and George can handle it. Do you want to go talk about that thing before everyone gets up and we're missed?" She nodded her head up the stairs.

Hermione opened the door to Buckbeak's room, and slid down the wall, picking up a rat and tossing it to the Hipogriph. Harry fallowed her lead sitting down beside Hermione, looking cautiously to the bird that had slashed Malfoy for an insult. "So what is it you couldn't tell me in the letter?" Harry had studied her last night when they where having tea, he could feel the warm fuzzy connection with her. It didn't pull like the link to Kestral but it was much stronger, than the link to Marty and Andrew.

"This is going to sound weird, but you're the only one I can tell. I've been feeling this connection, through my magic; it's warm and fuzzy, to Marty and Andrew. I've never noticed it before, last night I looked for one to you, and it was really bright, much stronger than the one to the Uncles. It just popped up I've never felt it before." He talked freely, unlike any time she heard him talk about feelings before. Hermione watched his face, he seamed relaxed, even happy about this unexplained thing. Harry had so many odd things in his life, this one actually seamed nice. "It's different with Kesi though, it's like a tug towards her. I don't mind it so much but I think I should know what it means." Hermione had never heard of this type of thing before, that didn't mean she couldn't figure out what it was, or that she wouldn't look for a similar feeling in her own magic.

"I don't know Harry." She tugged on a piece of hair that had escaped. "I'll check it out in the library, but we'll probably have to wait till we get to school." Her eyes glossed over as she went through the shelves, mentally listing the books she would look in first, and things it might be. Harry watched her letting have quiet to work on this new puzzle.

Kestral sighed with relief as the portrait finale grew silent. She was surrounded by twins, also breathing deep. Slowly they all moved away from the portrait and down the stairs toward the kitchen, none of them had seen Harry and Hermione on the top of the stairs. When Kestral thought they had reached a safe distance she whispered, "Why hasn't the picture been taken down?" They found Mrs. Weasley already in the kitchen with a pot of tea sitting on the table while she started making pancake batter.

"They tried, but there's a permanent sticking charm attaching it to the wall." It was she was almost certain George; he had a slight uplift in his right eyebrow. Fred did not. She supposed Mrs. Black must have been as nasty as her portrait to stick it permanently to the wall. The twins helped themselves to tea, sitting down at the table. Mrs. Weasley greeted them, brought cream and sugar, patting them casually on the head and asking if they wanted anything special.

Kestral sighed into her tea, there had to be some way to get rid of that portrait, it was just too early to think clearly maybe after breakfast. This posed another problem for her because she was not making it. Kestral had made breakfast every mourning for years, cooking calmed her hand the steady procedure of cutting and mixing helped clear her mind so she could think. This however wasn't her kitchen and it would be rude to push into what was quite obviously Mrs. Weasley's domain. Tapping agitatedly on the table she decided that it couldn't possible be rude to set the table.

Mrs. Weasley watched Kestral set the table. She was such a quiet, sweet girl, perhaps a little temper problem, but she seamed to have developed a fair control of it. Last night every one had felt her magic boil, and push out; Molly had expected it to blow. She herself had spent along time managing to build up a control of her magic so that every time she became angry she didn't blow the roof off the house. Harry seamed quite attached to her. Molly had for a short while last year entertained the thought Harry would fall as much in love Ginny as her daughter was with him. That was not to be; perhaps she should talk to her. She smiled at the back of Kestrals head as the girl went out the door.

Ginny woke up to find both of the other girls where up. She was usually the first up in a home full of boys she had always found the quiet of mornings refreshing. This mourning despite waking late, she rolled over closed her eyes and sighed. She had spent the whole summer waiting for Harry to come, and dreaming about how it would be and last night had been a bitter disappointment. She had imagined that Harry would be sad and in desperate need of comfort, that he would have spent his summer thinking about his life being lonely, and realizing that he really like her. She had pictured him giving her longing looks across the table, and as soon as he got the chance to be alone with her; he'd take her in his arms, beg her to accept him despite his taking so long. She of course would say yes they would kiss, and everything would be perfect. None of that had happened, he had been to busy with Hermione and Kestral, they didn't liked quidditch, and Hermione wasn't even that pretty, and she was always bossing people around. Neither one of them knew what it was like to have He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, floating around in their head, Hermione hadn't faced anything like that not really, and Kestral was practically spoiled rotten by her Uncles. She sighed again, feeling bitter, and alone.

Harry and Hermione where still sitting in silence, when Sirius came looking for them. Harry explained what he'd been feeling, to his godfathers knowing nod. "It's not common for someone to learn it on their own, to feel their magic respond to love. I learned from your Grandmother, she taught me the summer I ran away from home." He had a far away look on his face. "I don't know what the pulling is though, Ellen and Charles died before she finished teaching me." He looked at Hermione, she was thinking. He had learned to recognize that look, but it was breakfast and Molly was strict about breakfast it being the most important meal of the day.

Kestral sat beside the twins and Remus Lupin, looking at the beans and tomatos in front of her. Tomato's were good in eggs, but these where sliced and drizzled with basil and pepper, the beans she didn't touch, they where not a breakfast food. Sitting across from her was Ron who had no problems eating the beans or anything else for that matter. Ginny was staring sullenly down into her plate no one said very much at all. Every one consumed with their own thoughts. Hers drifted away from the puzzling choice of side dishes, to the annoying portrait of Mrs. Black. It had not pleased her to have stumbled down the stairs in hopes of a quiet morning, maybe getting to make some biscuits, only to be shrieked at. It just set the wrong tone for the day. Stirring the left over syrup on her plate, the light clicked on. "What if we cut the wall out?" Every head turned to look at her, why would they cut the wall out, and which wall was it that had so offended her.

"Umm, Kes? What wall is it you're talking about?" Harry looking strait at her, her mouth opened.

"Mrs. Black's portrait." Hermione couldn't help herself. "Why didn't we think of it before?" It made sense now that someone had said it, but why hadn't she thought of it.

"Probably because we where all looking for a magical answer, and this one is very muggle." Remus said from her left. He looked at Kestral with an approving eye. "It should be simple enough to do, a few stabilizing charms, to make sure nothing collapses, and a severing hex." He looked at Sirius; it was his house after all. Sirius was laughing pulling Kestral into a hug.

"Forever in your dept my lady." He sang dancing her about. Causing everyone to laugh, Sirius was slowly coming back to himself, if slightly more mature.

Hermione sat quietly on her bed flipping through pages in one of her books, for once not really looking at its contents. She was thinking. Sirius had said that Harry was learning to recognize his magic's reaction to the love he had for people. If the thing he was feeling was his magic's reaction to the love, then the tug must be some sort of soul recognition, so Kestral was Harry's soul mate. Hermione had never thought that much on soul mates, not that she wasn't romantic; it had just been a form of self preservation. Boys had never thought she was very pretty and more often then not intimidated by her intelligence. She was quite aware that most Hogwarts thought she and Ron would end up together, as much affection she held for him it was all sisterly, like what she felt for Harry. She pushed the book away irritated. She deserved someone more compatible to her, someone who was as intellectual, and someone who had table manners, not who every one thought she should be with because no one else would have her. She became even more irritated because, before this whole magic, love, tugging thing, she had been content to be ignored by boys in the romantic sense, content to limit those longings to the occasional day dream. Now she wanted her own soul mate, she wanted to be able to see the ties to her loved ones, to feel that pull to her soul mate. Like any problem she would be unable to rest until she had accomplished that task, she would have to wait until Hogwarts to find any new information. The Black library was not surprisingly lacking in the books about soul mates and love ties.

"So you and Kestral." Sirius wiggled his eyebrows at Harry. "Anything you want to tell your old godfather." He nudged Harry. "Hnnh." Harry turned bright pink.

"I don't know? I like Kes a lot, but I just don't know?" He avoided Sirius eyes, turning an even deeper shade of red.

"That dear boy is something I can help you with. Come on Bambi, I'll teach you everything I know." One long arm went around Harry and he was lead up the stairs.

Kestral climbed past Hermione crawling into her bed and pulled the pillow over her head. Operation Headquarters Liberation had begun, and the noise was enough to drive any one mad. Mrs. Black did not want to be moved and like all her other opinions she had no problem shouting it to any unfortunate ears that happened to be near by. Several silencing charms had been caste but they wouldn't stick. To add to the racket Kreacher was screaming that the blood traitors had no right to remove his mistresses painting. In the background the Weasley twins where chanting, and Mrs. Weasley was telling them to be quiet.

Kestral leaned over the edge of the bed, hair flopping over, to look a Hermione. Hermione was lying back studying the bottom of Kestral's bed. "Hermione?" Kestral said quietly. Hermione looked over smiled. "What do you think about getting into a little propaganda war with the Daily Profit?"


End file.
